You were there
by Asimple74
Summary: A message written about her, by someone she does not remember, leaves Bella with questions and fear. He knows a lot...
1. Chapter 1

**You were there.**

**Disclaimer:** Twilight and characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This story's plot belongs to me.

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**Chapter One**

My hand is rapidly changing the pages. I need a job. The college paper has some ads, but nothing for the immediate future. By the end of the week my money will have a total of zeroes as a sum.

Nothing. Frustrated, I throw it on my bed and I am about to head outside when the "You where there" column, on the last page, catches my interest:

"You were there. Fork's High parking lot, long brown hair, big brown eyes, old red Chevy truck, band aid around your left thumb. E..."

Yes, I was there...two years ago.


	2. Chapter 2

**You were there.**

**Disclaimer:** Twilight and characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This story's plot belongs to me.

**Chapter Two**

Money. I finally got a part time job as a waitress. I am holding a basket with some groceries but I don't have enough for the rent. The line in front of the cashier is long. It is Friday night.

The girl ahead of me has the college paper poking out of her shoulder bag. It has been a week since that odd message. I was almost convinced it was for me because of the details. It was the day we had blood testing in high school. I had called the paper but they had no information about the person who had sent the note. It was a weird situation but my everyday life is hard enough to destruct me from thinking more about it. But...I am curious.

" May I borrow this for a minute?" There are at least five people before us and she passes the paper with a calm "Yeah...sure..."

I go straight at the last page. My first scan finds nothing and the sense of relief washes over me. I am about to give the paper back when a tiny phrase catches my eyes.

"You were there, small town's hospital, cast around one leg, blue T-shirt. E..."

Forks is a small town and I had been to the hospital with a broken leg, wearing a blue T-shirt. The day I made it alive from a terrible accident. I thought it was a miracle...E knows more than someone who could have seen the accident. The shirt was hidden under a blouse...

A/N: If there is enough feedback there will be updates every two days. Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**You were there.**

**Disclaimer:** Twilight and characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This story's plot belongs to me.

**Chapter Three**

It is Friday morning and I am sitting with a cup of hot coffee outside the college paper offices. The coffe shop I work is just two blocks away and I had the night shift. I am still in my yesterday clothes. Last week I came here with more questions but left with no answers. I was convinced those messages were about me and I needed to find the person behind them cause there is no coincidence involved. I had asked for an appointment.

Assuming that an old classmate from Forks had seen me here and all these messages could be a part of a farce, I explained my concern to the person who managed that column. But, since nothing indicated there was a danger, they could not allow me to track him or her down through their incoming e-mails. The thought of going to the police seemed outrageous...for the moment.

As I leave, students deliver the new paper that has just arrived from printing. I eagerly grab a copy and sit on a nearby bench. I go again straight to the last page. I am again there...

"You were there, behind the bar. Dark jeans, purple royal blue sweater, black jacket, pony tail, Withering Heights-2005 edition."

That person saw me last night at work. I am afraid...


	4. Chapter 4

**You were there.**

**Disclaimer:** Twilight and characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This story's plot belongs to me.

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**Chapter Four**

"This can't be a coincidence." I am almost shouting. People look at me with irritation. I am in the college paper offices again, with the paper right in front of the columnist's face.

"Just look at me. This person has described exactly what I'm wearing now and I have not changed since last night. I need to know who that person is cause all this is really annoying me." The girl looked a little frightened.

There was a phone call, some whispers and notes, some "...you have to take care of this..." and I am then told to go to the chief editor's office. I tell everything again, ask for the e-mail address and names, threaten to go to the police. Nothing. Personal data not available, especially since people are paying for these ads. The snob lady behind the huge, busy desk almost kicks me out.

"Sorry Miss. Personally I would never remember what you would be wearing since last night. Half girls like you wear similar clothes. You could be any of them. Now, if you 'll excuse me, I have tones of work to do."

She had a point, I am totally plain. I leave the office and walk back home. I am convinced someone is stalking me and make sure to have all locks secured. I read again the paper.

""You were there, behind the bar. Dark jeans, purple royal blue sweater, black jacket, pony tail, Withering Heights-2005 edition."

He must have seen me while reading. There were hardly two or three customers and I was totally bored last night.

Then it hits me. I served this person last night. They were all men.


	5. Chapter 5

**You were there.**

**Disclaimer:** Twilight and characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This story's plot belongs to me.

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**Chapter Five**

Anxiety kept me awake. I decide to leave earlier for my morning shift. It starts at 8.00 am and it is just 7.00. I am ready to open the door and head out when a glimpse of my small living room holds me back. The place is a mess.

The TV is still on, my clothes from yesterday are scattered everywhere they possibly don't belong, leftovers decorate in a bad way my usually very clean table. The need to leave is stronger than my almost ocd habit of keeping the place tidy. The last piece that catches my attention is a plain white paper with a bad sketch. All the craziness about my stalker had landed on me trying to remember all the male customers of the previous night. I tried to put anything that had attracted my interest. There were not much to step on. Clearly none of them was noticeable enough and I was too tired for something more than filling empty cups with coffee or passing bills. I had spend most of the night reading. Obviously, someone was not as tired.

I had made three attempts to sketch the faces or what I could remember of them. One of them was an old man, a regular customer who works till late every day. Another one was a young man dressed in a ridiculous outfit, probably coming from a club. None of them looked like they could be interesting in me and they definitely aren't familiar faces. Two other guys who looked like students were in the shop for less than ten minutes and left with some coffee and snacks. Classic study group.

There was only one customer left but I was sure he was not the stalker. I was sure cause he had not approached the bar at all. I had taken his order – just water and a toast- and he left money on the table. He couldn't have seen the book behind the bar. Another thing, he had sunglasses on and a hood was covering his head. Looked like someone ready for an early morning run. It was around 6.30 in the morning and all I wanted was to get home and sleep.

I look at the sketch one more time. It is a sketch of the last guy. I don't know why I spent so much time trying to remember details about him. I barely even heard him speaking. It is just a small sense that there is something I am missing, something my tired sleepy self had noticed but did not appreciate.

The door is closed and I lock the place carefully. While heading outside I search blindly in my bag for my book. The size and texture and its smell is so familiar I could find it in a a full library. It still smells like my room in Forks. I finally reach the cover but something is wrong. The hard cover fills a lot different. It is not paper, it is a clothed cover, embossed in blind and the size is new. It is not my copy.

My surprise gives its place to horror when I take the book out of my messenger bag. It is a fucking first edition. A very well maintained, 1848 copy of Bronte's Withering Heights from Harpers and Brothers, New York. The first American Edition.

Something is really wrong. First of all the book is not mine. Second of all it costs more than my apartment and my house in Forks. And third and most important, someone must have been in my house last night.

**A/N: Hard time in RL. I have promised an update for the "Wedding Rehearsal" and I will try to get it out soon. My plans about updates are a disaster. Thank you all for reading.**

For angst addicts an interesting rec.** :"The invitation" by Soul-Over-Mind,** it is in my favorites and I have already rec'd it to readers who have reviewed in the past. I bet you will ask more and more of this story, just let the author know and leave her some love.

**Thank you all. :) Oh, and if you find this interesting enough to be continued just let me know.**


	6. Chapter 6

**You were there.**

**Disclaimer:** Twilight and characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This story's plot belongs to me.

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**Chapter Six**

"Sorry Miss, there is nothing more we can do for now..." The officer in front of me looks totally irritated.

"Frankly, we had to spent valuable time searching your apartment for a supposed breaking and entering and we found nothing suspicious there." He had already closed the file of my "case" and was nervously opening different documents, obviously trying to imply that my time there was over.

"Yes, but my book..." I tried to insist, only to receive an almost angry look from detective Uley.

" Look. You probably lost it or someone made you a gift or..." I was sure he was going to say "a joke".

"...or someone lost his. Anyway the copy you have has not been reported as stolen or lost. We have kept any important information about it in case someone claims he owns it. We "really" can't do anything else at the moment. Considering the value of the book, I have to advise you to keep it somewhere safe. Have a nice day Miss." Detective Uley totally means "Get lost you crazy loser." I grab the precious edition and get out.

The idea of coming to the nearest police station and report my hypothetical stalker was a total failure. They all think I I am crazy. But the book in my bag is not an illusion and all the messages in the paper were real.

My head is lost in millions thoughts as I step in the cafe for my shift. As I change, the idea of searching about the real book owner is torturing me. I take it out and check it one more time. Nothing. No notes inside, or missing pages, or any indication of marks. I put it in my locker and head to take my post behind the bar.

A stop to wash my hands sounds like a good idea before touching food and coffees, but as I smell them before lathering them with soap, something stops me. A smell. The book has a very special smell. A smell I could have recognized everywhere.

A smell from Forks.

**A/N: Thank you for reading. I love reviews. The make my day, seriously!**


	7. Chapter 7

**You were there.**

**Disclaimer:** Twilight and characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This story's plot belongs to me.

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**Chapter Seven**

The week passed in silence. The last post kept the mystery alive but there was nothing more I could do about it. It was saying :

"You were there, alone in the gazebo, barefoot."

Yes, I was there, the night of senior prom. I had gone with a boy I never liked a lot but I could not be that picky. Still, through the whole night, I had the feeling that something was missing. There was no magic.

That night my heels were threatening to kill me, both times by tripping and finally ruining my dress. I left the dance floor and walked outside without my partner. The gazebo was empty but perfect for the time I needed away from all the noise of the night. The shoes were off in seconds and I was immensely content about reaching land again. Half an hour later someone found me sleeping, frozen, and still barefoot, and took me in my car. I had my driving pair under the seat but when I went back to look for my shoes... they were gone.

I have the night shift again. I don't see anyone as a potential suspect around. I leave at six o clock and it is still dark. Lost in my thoughts, I walk mechanically avoiding the darker spots. As hard as I am trying to stop thinking about it the note comes back. Someone from Forks is stalking me. I am not as careful when I bump on something while turning on a corner. I say "I'm sorry" but my obstacle does not bother to move. Three pairs of eyes are exchanging looks. I hear a "hey babe" and "wanna have some fun" and feel hands on me. Next thing there is a strong push, gasps, feet running and then a smell of copper mixed with that smell from Forks fills my nostrils and my head is pounding, and I can watch the pavement coming closer while I am literally flying.

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**A/N: Thank you for reading. Please make me write sooner. If readers have nothing to say about the story then...there is no point in keeping it here.**

**PS: ****"Habits of a day"**, by Natalone09, in my favorites. If you are looking for darker fics you won't regreet it.

And don't forget my other fics. **"My years of rejection"** has a new chapter. Please read cause my** Bella there does not chew crap**.


	8. Chapter 8

**You were there.**

**Disclaimer:** Twilight and characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This story's plot belongs to me.

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**Chapter Eight**

I am warm, really warm. I know I'm awake but my eyes don't follow my brain and they stay closed. I blindly try to get read of the soft layers around me and my head feels heavy. There is some pain on my forehead and my left arm is sore. Then I remember them. Someone made them go but I was already shoved violently on the concrete tiles. I open my eyes and I'm relieved. I'm home and it was probably a bad dream. As I try too get out of bed the pain appears again, stronger, and my arm is wrapped with gauses. Everything was real.

Panic has filled the air around me. I cannot remember who brought me back or who took care of me. I look around and the apartment is clean, my sheets are fresh and I'm in sweats. Then I froze as I can hear someone walking towards my room.

Before my voice has the power to form the smallest word I hear a familiar male voice calling me.

"Bella?"

My father. My father is here and suddenly everything feels alright. Safe, that's the right word.

"Dad?" I all I can spell before Charlie has me in his arms and I feel like a five year old girl looking for hugs and candy bars.

He tells me what happened. I was attacked by four men whom the police knew well. Fortunately a driver saw them and made them go away. One of those lowlifes had pushed me and I had hit my head and my arm. I had fainted instantly. I was lucky enough to be saved by a med student who had immediately treated my wounds and had called Charlie and the police. He had assured him I had nothing important and that there was no need for me to stay at the hospital. He had already given the police descriptions on the suspects and that they were already after them for several crimes.

I couldn't remember a thing. A few minutes later I was functional enough to ask about my savior. I was totally caught by surprise.

"Em...Bells...He is here. He stayed here all the time you were asleep and waited for me to come. He is in the living room.

My curiosity can kill me. I am up in seconds, ignoring the pain and my hunger. I follow the soft carpet of the small corridor between my room and the rest of the apartment and I'm engulfed with that exquisite smell again. Old, rich and clean, like an expensive soap forgotten in a drawer, and man. And I remember. It was the smell of a boy. A boy I had only seen once in my life but I could not forget how he looked.

Edward Cullen is sitting on my couch, his eyes on me as I enter the small room. And I know that something odd is happening. I know that first thing...I have to get rid of Charlie immediately.

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**A/N: I hope you are still reading:)**


	9. Chapter 9

**You were there.**

**Disclaimer:** Twilight and characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This story's plot belongs to me.

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**Chapter Nine**

"Bella, this is Edward, the med student I told you," Charlie spoke, his tone calm and friendly but with a hint of nervousness.

"You know... there is a great coincidence here. Edward's family has a house outside Forks. His father was a surgeon in our hospital for a year, Dr Cullen. I don't know if you ..." my father continued but I cut him off rather abruptly.

"No...I don't think we've met," I answered in a sharp tone, my eyes focused on the beautiful man in front off me. He looked exactly the same like he was in high school, and he smell …divine. The look on his face was friendly but I could see it in his eyes. The "you know , that I know, that you know, that this is a lie". I just had to make Charlie go, cause I needed answers. And for a reason I myself could not explain, I was not afraid.

After a few "thank you", and a small chat between the three of us about my accident the situation became awkward.

"I guess it is time for me to go," Edward said but there was no way I would let him.

"Hm, dad, there is no food in the fridge, could you possibly go to the grocery store? Edward, please stay for dinner, and I will need some help to change my gauze later... if you have time of course."

"Sure...is the store around the corner open?" Charlie asked, looking between me and the young man, obviously a little surprised by my invitation. He knew I was tired and that he could help me later.

"You don't have to bother with cooking for me. I can come back later and help you..." Edward spoke, but the knowing look on his face made me insist.

"No, I really wanna thank you and cooking is the least I can do, please..."

"Okay...But sir, the only store open at this hour is a little far from here, opposite to the train station. Do you want me to go?" Edward offered.

"No...it' okay. Take care of her for a while," Charlie said and left.

Silence followed as we stayed there staring at each other. He was a mesmerizing creature. Everything about him was inviting me in. I took a deep breath and spoke.

"Who are you?" I whispered.

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**Hey, send me your thoughts! I write for readers not only for me. Check my other stories and tell me who you'd like me to update soon. I will update one more story today, show me the one you want !**


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